Until The End Of Time
by Adiemus1
Summary: All we have to decide is what to do with the time given to us...no matter how long or short that may be.
1. Chapter 1

~Hey everybody, this is my first fic for the TE section, I hope it fits. I've added a character here, Winnie's sister. It will mainly revolve around them, but it will be a romance too, for both girls and some certain hotties with the last name of Tuck. Please review.~  
  
~) Until the End of Time () Chapter One: Homecoming (~  
  
Winnifred "Winnie" Foster slowly and cautiously peered down the stairs trying to overhear the heated conversation that was taking place in the middle of the family's parlor. The strained voice of her father and shrill voice of her mother made quite the comparison. From what Winnie could see, her grandmother sat in a large mauve chair, looking stiff and stern, occasionally nodding her head up and down. And who was the recipient of all this? Why it was none other than Amelia Foster, sister to Winnifred, and utter disappointment to her parents. Amelia wasn't much like the girls of her time. She was a free spirit, a gentle bird who wanted nothing more than to spread her wings and fly. She didn't want to wear her hair up, didn't care for long extravagant gowns, despised corsets, and, sin of all sins, refused to get married.  
  
Oh, she was pretty enough for a man, even beautiful maybe, but early on in life she had decided the holy act of matrimony wasn't right for her. No, it would not do her well to become a baby-breeding machine and sew all day long while her husband worked at some bank. She'd once had a man propose to her, a wealthy man, but not rich in what really mattered. When he had proposed to her, she was sitting on a bench in a park while he reluctantly put one knee on the ground. He took of his glove and took his hand in hers....but she was so distracted by the white hand of his. Not a real man's hand, it looked more like a woman's. It had no roughness, no calluses, and no imperfection. She made him stand up, saying he did nothing to be proud of, no real labor. She didn't respect him, and she could never marry a man she didn't respect.  
  
The clashing of an object against the wall drove Winnie back to reality. She stood up immediately, knowing what was to happen next, for it always ended the same way. She scurried down the long hallway, her feet sliding softly against the lavender rug, and took a right, entering her sister's room just in enough time to hide behind the large doors of the closet, shielding herself in back of coats and dresses. Winnie heard the footsteps becoming louder and louder, the door swinging open, and then she was discovered. The clothes were pushed aside, and Winnie shyly glanced up at the madding face of her sister.  
  
"Hi..." She muttered timidly. Amelia rolled her eyes and simply slammed the door shut, the idea of locking her little annoyance in there until dinnertime. She never did though. Amelia frowned as she tumbled across the wide bed, landing on a mass of silky pillows. The mumbling of voices could be heard from outside her room, ever so often rising with anger and contempt and then hesitation and wariness. Sighing deeply and stumbling off the bed, she found her old friendly window, one which she had escaped out of many a time. Flipping up the latch, she opened it swiftly, peered her head out, and screamed. Birds flew out of their nearby nests like frightened chickens waiting to become a meal.  
  
Suddenly, she was echoed, louder and more panicked. Amelia turned to see a red-faced Winnie, looking down sheepishly at the cream-colored rug. Amelia raised an eyebrow at her little sister, a smile creeping onto her face. The red-faced, slightly embarrassed young girl mirrored the previous movement, until both broke out into a happy chorus of laughter. Falling into each other's arms, the two sisters embraced.  
  
"Felt like a shout eh?" Mumbled laughter and a nod of a head was the only response to question asked by the elder. When it had subsided, the real inquiry began.  
  
"So sister dear, what have you been up to when I was being auctioned off for marriage?"  
  
"Piano, schooling, tea...oh! Did you hear about Charlotte Windham? She's engaged!" Amelia glanced up quickly at the mention of her best friend, and her smile flattered, betraying the emotion she was so wanted to be joyous.  
  
"My Charlotte? Dear Charlotte? To whom?"  
  
"A Mr. Earnest Hammond from Virginia. Twenty-Two, owner of a large house, and has lots of money. Not that it matters of course, because I'm sure she really does love him, though the material things are not without concern you know." Amelia nodded, but still kept a slight frown upon her brow, not yet convinced. She'd known Charlotte, or Lottie as she was better known, since childhood. They would often talk about what their lives would be like years form then, and while words were spoken of husbands and children, the word "love" was absolutely necessary. A life without love can be no life at all.  
  
"You'll just have to see for yourself then, if you don't believe me. They'll be at the Jackson's on Tuesday for Molly's coming out party." Amelia rolled her eyes for the second time that day.  
  
"I despise "coming out" parties...almost as much as I despise that Molly Jackson. Stupid little ninny."  
  
"Amelia!"  
  
"Well, you can't blame me for thinking that way! If she's not complaining about her height, she's complaining about her weight, or her hair, or her dresses. I'd like to see her go without any of that for one day, I really would!"  
  
"Oh, let's not talk about that now, you're obviously cross. But if it makes you feel better, Georgia Lawshe fell in a pond yesterday when we were rowing our boats!" Laughter came back into the room, louder than ever this time, for if there was one person Amelia disliked more than Molly Jackson it was Georgia Lawshe, and maybe her sister Annabeth too. They were as frustrating as a broken fan on a hot summer's day, and as stuck up the nose on their faces, sitting up high in the air.  
  
"Oh, Misses?" The girls turned to find the door open and a rather frail looking woman holding a few vases in the hall. Her snow-white hair was tucked up in a prim little bun on the top of her head and the wrinkles danced across her ivory face. Kind blue eyes stared at the girls, and a question came to the tip of her tongue.  
  
"I've been summoned to tell you it's time for dinner," she paused for a moment, her lips parted. "Miss Amelia has been asked to retire here for the night." She looked down, embarrassed to be the one to have to tell the young woman that she was not wanted in the company of her parents at this time. Winnie took over from there.  
  
"Would you inform my parents that I'll be staying with my sister, please?" The maid nodded her head and scurried out of the hallway. Amelia sent her sister a look, sighed and fell back down on the bed, welcoming the soft sheets to wrap around her. Winnie laughed and pulled her back up, telling her sister to take the travel coat off of her if she was going to wrinkle it. Amelia scrunched up her nose and took off the long beige jacket, folding it neatly over the chair of her vanity. With satisfaction that it wouldn't crease, she admired the room for the first time since her arrival.  
  
The basic qualities of the room always seemed to stay the same, though the items would change form time to time, as she grew older. The high walls were painted a pale pink, while some parts were vanilla. Soft, luscious embroidered tapestries, pillows, sheets and rugs were found throughout the room. Tiffany lamps adorned the room as did fragrant flowers, standing tall and proud in their vases. Tall, large windows and a day seat sat only a few feet from the bed, facing the colorful garden out front. A few books scattered here and there, and a stationery desk, waiting for a cheerful letter to be written. Old photographs covered the desk and some walls along with paintings. And finally came Amelia's favorite part of the room. Inside her closet, behind the mass of clothes and hatboxes was a tiny little door. One could hardly believe that such a small door held so much future for this young woman. The power to escape needed only the turning of the brassy knob, and she was free.  
  
Amelia looked towards Winnie, her face alive with excitement, her eyes sparkling. No one in the family knew about the little chamber, not even the servants. It was discovered years ago, by way of the game "hide and seek". Winnie sprang from her seat and ran to the door, peering out to see if anyone was approaching first. The coast clear, she quickly shut it and locked it tight. By now Amelia had already bounced up and was rummaging through her drawers for the key. Lifting up a pair of old weathered stockings, she flipped them upside down and grasped the shiny gold key as it fell down to her palm. Winnie smiled at the comical nonsense her sister possessed and eagerly following the older girl as she made her way to the closet. There she was joined, and as Amelia slipped the small object into the hole, their souls began to soar, for they waited with a happy giddiness of what they were about to unleash.  
  
~All right, I hope everyone liked it, I had fun writing it. If you'd like to read more of my work, I have one story in the Outsiders section, and one more called "The Empress" at FF.Press. Please review, and have a nice day.~ 


	2. Chapter 2

"Oomph!" Winnie felt the wood under her palms and wiped the dust off her dress. Apparently she and her sister had forgotten in the past couple of years to clean away the dirt and grime from their sanctuary. Turning around as best she could, (which proved a hard thing to do in such a garment) Winnie found the sight before her rather amusing. Amelia was sitting Indian style, her pale rose dress covered in soot and filth and her hair in such a mess it might have been mistaken for a nest of some sort.  
  
Giggling loudly, Winnie held up a finger at her sister, loosing her balance in the process. It was now Amelia's turn to laugh; this was not a sight one saw everyday. Prestigious, shy, lovable Winnifred Foster in a blundering upheaval, panting heavily and glaring into the eyes of young lady, who could not quite be described as a lady for the present moment. Amelia simply showed off an angelic smile, and batted her eyelashes as well. Placing a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, she pressed on, making it impossible for Winnie to do anything but go forward.  
  
They soon came to another opening, an even smaller door than the one in the closet, fixed in the middle of the wall, with a stained glass window in the center of the door. Oh, it was a sight when the sun came down through the tiny cracks of splintered wood. Like a real fairyland, if you had enough imagination, a quality which both girls possessed in abundance. Winnie pushed the small frame open with little frustration. She paused a second to catch her breath as she climbing into the next section and looked at her surroundings. Fully in the room, she stood upright now, stretching her back simply because she could. Amelia soon followed, and took in a deep breath of air, letting the familiar scent wash over her.  
  
"It's been to long since I've been here."  
  
"We'll need to paint it this summer," added Winnie who was glancing up at the faded pale green wallpaper.  
  
"Why don't we start cleaning it up after dinner? If we start right now, we'll just get even more dirty and I'm sure mother will just be dying to know how we got that way." Amelia sighed and pushed open a window, struggling a bit. It was safe enough she knew; the window couldn't be seen from anywhere, unless you were on the roof, and the Foster roof was a stable roof, or so any Foster would have you believe. Pride in one's house was a must, and shamefulness was akin to disgracefulness; though if you were to say it out load, it would still make sense.  
  
"This'll be nice to have in the summertime."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"When mother and father are traveling abroad, dear sister, we can do whatever we like. And that includes fixing up these rooms and staying in them for however long we want." She turned back to Winnie, finding a doubtable expression on her face. "Oh come on Winnie, it'll be nice to stay up here during the summer...you *know* how dreadfully hot it can get."  
  
Her sister was just about to nod her head when the ringing of a bell sounded into their ears. Both looked up quickly, a sense of dread and disappointment marred their pretty faces. Amelia shut the window, locking it firmly and followed Winnie out the door, crawling on her hands and knees.  
  
"You know, we really ought to have a rug in here!" Winnie smothered a laugh, choosing simply to smile instead. Within a minuet they were back out, sighing as they shut the door, and put away the key.  
  
"Misses? Oh misses?" The sharp knock on the door told the girls it must have been Dorothy, the cook. Always impatient, she would curtly know once, and call out their names, wasting no time at all.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Dinner's ready ma'am." Winnie nodded, sighing deeply and making her door, ready to bring the food back up, when a sudden figure appeared...her mother.  
  
"Amelia, Winnifred, you will both come down for dinner; I will not hear of you sulking off to your rooms in such a manner. Why it's practically disgraceful! Follow me." Amelia glared at her mother's back, hoping to burn the fabric with her eyes.  
  
And so they went: the eldest gliding down the curved staircase, the second anxiously, and the third, rather disdainfully.  
  
"Ah, girls, so kind of you to join us." Winnie glanced up at her father and took her seat. It did no good trying to read his mind, no good at all. He was a clever man, a businessman, and nothing got past him.  
  
"Amelia," he said, painfully forced.  
  
"Father," was the only stiff reply he received. Taking her seat, she carefully unfolded the napkin and placed it in her lap, (taking great care to cover up the stains on her dress) sitting up straight, wishing with all her might that she could just disappear. The cold steel eyes of her father were locked onto her, never faltering. She looked down at her napkin and felt her face become flushed and hot. A hand under the table affectionately squeezed hers, as if trying to send some of its power and strength into her body. Alas, it did no good, for as soon as Amelia gathered up the courage to peer back up, there they were, empty and heartless, angered and prejudiced....prideful and conceited.  
  
It was if all the hate and evil things that had slipped out of Pandora's box had found it's new master in the form of a confused middle-aged man. Her pity, though, was not to be announced. Her father did not take empathy willingly, a great misfortune to those who offered it, whether it was true or false. A harsh cough from the opposite side of the table presented itself, and all faces glanced towards Mrs. Foster. While she was not the most caring or attentive mother in the world, she did not believe in treating anyone with contempt and the way in which her husband acted and it often made her uncomfortable.  
  
She made no effort to make conversation for there was usually no talking permitted at the dinner table, unless of course they were in the company of a guest. Silence took over the room-not completely comfortable, although it did keep one on one's toes.  
  
Well, each meal was served with the dignity of the Foster home, for all the servants took great care not to disgrace their names by somehow displeasing their masters. First came the appetizers, followed by course after course until it was time for desert, which was a rare occasion. Mr. Foster felt that by caving into such sweets showed no discipline while his wife felt it made her waistline bigger. Neither girl objected towards the inclination of something sugary...rather Amelia felt she deserved some, given the agony her parents had recently put her in.  
  
As soon as the ice cream was devoured the girls were positively itching to get back upstairs. Amelia put a cool hand to her forehead and looked rather distressed.  
  
"Mother, I'm a bit tired from my...activities today. May I please be excused to turn in for the night?"  
  
"Certainly dear. You'll find that Heloise has taken the liberty of unpacking all your belongings."  
  
"Wonderful." Amelia, still cautious not to show any stains, quickly got up to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. With a quick step of her heel she started for the stairs when she heard it. A loud gasp pierced the air. Amelia spun around to see her father frowning and her mother looking quite disgusted. Winnie was content to bight hard on her lip and motion to the back of her sister's dress.  
  
Amelia suppressed a groan as she realized what was the cause of the evening's uproar. A large dirty stain was on the back her beautiful rose- colored dress. She gently touched the fabric and winced, knowing she'd most likely be thrown out of the house within minutes. Of course it was only a dress, but once added to the whole of things that had occurred today and in the past in general...well, the odds did not look good.  
  
Mr. Foster's beady eyes began almost microscopic as her glared at his eldest daughter.  
  
"Amelia." One word, two syllables, but the meaning was apparent. They way he spoke it-quiet but deadly-shook her to her very core.  
  
But somehow Amelia just wasn't afraid anymore. She spun around fiercely with all the energy she had left. She quickly glanced at her mother and sister, but from that moment on she kept a steady gaze on her father.  
  
"Don't bother father," she said, her voice as cool as ice. "I'll get my bags and find a hotel to stay in."  
  
She turned sharply on her heel and held her up high, but deep inside her spirit was fading. 


End file.
